Run, Channie, Run
by Aofie Ravenscar
Summary: The Lycan tribe are dead apart from one, a young Lycan girl, who stumbles into the path of the dead men...Set during the War, spesifically 1938. T for language. My first fanfic. May include Shravel and Rex XD XD
1. Into The Woods I Ran

**Run, Channie Run.**

**Hey, this is my first fanfic so soryy if it's a bit crap... this is basically about the last werewolf on earth meeting the dead men. Set before the books. May include Shravel and Rex (Ravel/Vex, I think thats what you would call it) if I can think of something good about them...**

**Disclaimer- I don't own Skulduggery, although I wish I did...**

**Please R&R cos I love you all! Thank you for reading my little chickadees XD XD**

**Chapter 1**

**Channie's POV**

Running.

I run through the woods, out of breath, tears streaming down my blood stained face, mud covering my naked body. I can't believe I did it. I just left them. Left them to die, Mama, Daddy, Tannie, all of them, and I now I'm the only one left. Lord Vile and His followers didn't see me sneak out the back around my tent and sprint to the forest before he managed to butcher me too, but now that didn't matter, I'm alive, and they're not. How "Un-Lycan" of me to abandon my clan like that.

I should probably tell you who I am. My name is Chance Shrapnel, but ever since I was young, I have always taken the nickname Channie, and yes now I know it rhymes with Tranny, so don't laugh! I am what mages call a Lycan, or I have Lycanthropy. Plainly speaking, I'm a werewolf. Yeah, you know, from all the horror films, the ravenous blood-beasts that murder people to eat their flesh.

Yeah, well, were not like that, we only eat things that are already dead, (Like roadkill) and we had a peaceful life in the North of England, obviously not the best friends of English mages, but they let us stay in a large privet forest, until the war with the Mevolent started, and apparently the English sanctuary thought we were to much of a threat, so they packed us off to Ireland, were word got round to Mevolent where we were hiding, and because of all the bad roumors, everyone shunned us. We were thought of as monsters, beings, not anything, we were compared to vampires, even though they wanted blood, and we made friends with nature and lived in the forest. People madeup some crap about the full moon, and the fact we change evry time there is one. Actually, it's every time we feel angry, frustrated, violated, scared, any bad emotion really.

Over the years, our numbers went gradually down, being killed off by Lord Vile, who hated us the most, or commiting suicide by shooting themselves with a silver bullet. It was so sad.

At last, the once thriving Lycan tribe had been reduced down to just 23 of us. Until today, now there was just me, and I am scrared shitless.

I lie down on a bank, sobbing my heart out. I need a revenge plan on Lord Vile, and I know what it is! Join the army. It could be so easy! Ah! There are 3 (quite big) problems, though.

I'm a girl!

I'm not only a Lycan, but I'm the last Lycan on the planet!

I'm only 14!

I have an idea! I can make myself a facade! I have never done one before, buit could work, then I could disguise myself as a boy! As for my age, I can easily say I'm 17, and although I'm short, well, nothing can be done about that. I will still use the name Chance, because that's unisex, and unisex is always good, that's what Mama told me. Oh, Mama...

I stop crying and wander back to my camp. The majority of it has been set alight, and the dream catchers, and all the decorations that once made the camp beautiful are strewn on the floor. The bodies have been left, and I run over to my older sister Tannie, who has a silver bullet hole through her head. I lay her on top of me and sob.

Taneale and me, we've always been different. I always dress like a boy, I have short hair, and I hung around with the other 3 lads: Dracul, Mortimer and Urie, climbing trees and getting into bother, whereas Tannie, she was never into any of that. She wore dresses, and stayed in the tent and cooked with Mama. She hung out with the 5 girls: Echo, River, Liana, Shadow, and Saille. They would make decorations. The decorations which are now lying in tatters beneath my bare feet.

Taneale was the most beautiful Lycan I had ever seen. Usually, Lycans have dark, almost black hair and eyes, but I had been graced with red, but with white flecks, Tannie had white which went gradually darker, so the tips of her hair were jet black, My eyes are green, Tannie's were bright blue. All the lads wanted her, but I was the only one that knew she had a secret liking for Saille, a shy girl who liked poems.

That didn't matter now though. What I need is a facade, and some clothes. I walk over to where Mortimer was lying, blood seeping from the silver bullet lodged into his neck. I grimace. He was my best friend. His curly black hair was already beginning to fade into grey, a sign that the Lycan life was over. I don't have time to cry now, though. Moving quickly, I tear off Mortimer's clothes, and put them on. They're a bit big, but they're going to have to do.

I pick up a book lying in the mud- this is what I need. It was the Lycan incantation and blessing book, and it will tell me how to create a facade. I flick to the facade page, and I carefull take a knife, and begin to carve a deer's head, the Lycan symbol, into the inside of my wrist, then say a blessing over the top. I really hopes this works, my whole new life is resting on this.

Lycan's facades are the best. You can be in disguise for a couple of hours with a mages' facade, but Lycan's you can stay out in your new face for up to ten hours, but then it needs three to recharge.

Finally, I make my way to my tent, or what's left of it anyway. It's nothing more than some burnt wood, and ashes. The whole world is against me, I'll have to watch my back. I gather what I can (Food, and such) and leave, bidding farewell to the home I have loved for 14 years.

Walking in the woods is surprisingly peaceful, I think to myself. I find a stick, and throw it out in front of me, sighing. I picked up my fathers arrows back in the camp, the were his prized possession, and now I'll keep them, use them as my weapon.

"_Yeah, you tell Skulduggery he can sod it!" _a voice rings out in the silence of the woods. _Oh God, Lord Vile, he's found me!_

I stand, frozen to the spot, when another voice says: _"Dexter! You can't tell Skulduggery to sod it, he'll be narked at us for days, and you know we don't want that, do we?"_

Well, it wasn't Lord Vile himself, but it could easily be some of his mages. Oh no, is my life over before it's begun. Well, I don't want to take any chances! Running, again, panting, through the woods, as fast as I can. This time though, they've seen my, because they're running after, yelling. I fall down a bank, my thigh bone snaps and sticks out of my leg. I stifle a scream, but utter the words "Seal," and the wound instantly closes itself up. Another brilliant Lycan trick. I run again, tears pouring down my muddy, bloody face, until, I come to a dead end. Just a large clearing, and, I realise, there's no point in running.

I sit on the floor, not crying, my chin up, gazing at the two men, waiting for the end to come. One man has short blond hair, quite short in general for a man, but he is very, very good looking. Oh no, Channie stop it, you can't have a crush on the man that's about to kill you! he has some sort of uniform on, and he has a rifel pointed at my neck. The other man was staring at me. He had beautiful blue eyes and longish brown hair, he was very tall, and both looked like they were at the gym every day of the week. However, they did not look like Lord Vile's accomplises.

"I'm Dexter Vex, and this is my colleague Erskine Ravel. Please state who you are or I swear to God, boy, I'll blow your brains out!"

Well, that was nice of him...


	2. The Robin Hood Of 1938

I point the rifel at the boy on the floor. Erskine and I had gone out to scout for some food, when we hads seen this figure run offinto the woods. It turned out it was just a kid. We have been tracking Lord Vile for 3 weeks now. Apparently, Corrival says it will be 1939 by the time we get back to the sanctuary, and to be honest now I'm getting very, very pissed. It didn't help that Skulduggery was going round spreading roumors about me and Erskine. He doesn't know a thing.

So anyway, this kid was sat on the floor , out of breath, not looking at either one of us. He looked pretty dodgy, so, like I said, I pointed the gun at him, and shouted: My name is Dexter Vex, this is my colleague Erskine Ravel, tell us your name and age or I swear to God, boy I'll blow your brains out!"

What? Well, I had to get him to talk. The kid pats his wrists then looks up. He looks about 18, but he is the shortest kid of that age I have ever seen. He has red hair, but he is wearing a newsboy hat on top of it, shorts, brogues, a jumper and a long trench coat. He isn't the most handsome kid I've ever seen, but his eyes, those bright green eyes, make him the most intruiging person I have ever seen (and please don't tell China I said that) On his back, he has a sheath with a bow and 7 arrows, all decorated. He looks like a modern day Robin Hood. He lifts his head and says: "Please, sir, are you going to kill me?" He has a very strange voice, he is deffinately not Irsh, and his voice is very low.

However, he doesn't seem a threat.

"No, but only if you tell us who you are." Erskine says.

"Well, my name's Chance, Chance Shrapnel, and I want to rise up against the Mevolent for what they did to my family. We were living up in the North of England, but then due to our family's money troubles, we moved to Ireland, Tipperary, actually. We lived there happily until the war became out of hand. Then, last night, I was out at the pub with my friends, and while I was out, Lord Vile's cohorts came in, stripped our house bare and murdered them all. Now I'm seeking revenge, sir!" He says, then stands up and salutes us both.

"How old are you?" I ask

"17, sir," Chance replies,

"Then, aren't you a little young to be out drinking, my dear boy?" I ask, my eyebrows shooting up. Chance looks ashamed, but then I laugh and he smiles.

"So, you really want revenge? Well, I think we can help you! See, we're part of an organisation- actually, Erskine, we should take him back to our camp and introduce him to corrival. We could do with a young scout!"

"Yes, good idea, come on then, Chance! Hop to it, boy!" I say then smile at the boy as he walks in front of us, happy that he has a new home.

**Channie's POV**

I can't believe it was so easy! I put on a ridiculous stereotypical boy voice, and gave them a really far fetched story and somehow they just believed me, and now they're carting me off to some bloke called Corrival. I'm guessing he's their leader. They want me to be their scout, or something. I don't mind, as long as I get to fight in my Tribe's honour then I don't care if I'm a "young scout" or a bloody colnel!

"So, you're accent, you're from the North of England, like, Yorkshire?" asks Erskine.

"Yes, sir, but we moved when things got out of control..." I reply, knowing that he will ask more questions that I will have to make up answers to later on.

"Stop." Says Dexter suddenly. "We're being followed,"

He then turns around and throws a ball of fire into the trees. I almost cry out. Lycans and trees have been friends since the dawn of time. I can't bear to stand anyone hurting them.

The tree catches fire, and three men run out, dressed in black, and starts to shoot more fireballs at us. The largest one, who's nose resembled a banana tries to wrestle me, by far the smallest, to the ground, I reply by spiting in his face. He instantly drops me. I stand up, and jump onto his back. No joke, he must be 7 feet tall, compared to my 5 foot 2 inches. He tries to fling me off, but I hold on tightly, closing my arms around his throat. He makes an attempt to call out to his companions, but all that comes out is a gasp. I decide to let him go. He collapses to the floor, where I take out one of my arrows, aim, and nearly crying in revenge-y ness, shoot him in the head. Bits of brain and watery stuff squirt out of his head as the arrow comes all the way through, temple to temple. He doesn't have time to scream.

I pull the arrow out, and wipe it on my coat. Ewwww... I check back to see how the others are doing, when Dexter's catches my attention. He is on the floor, clutching his leg, lying in a pool of his own blood. "Shit." I whisper, as I see one of Lord Vile's other playmates, a short man who looks slightly like a pug, stands over Dexter with a mace swinging high above his head, ready to strike Dexter off like I had done with Banananose. I ran, somersaulted into a front flip, then kicked the man in the face, knocking him off balance. Gasping in pain, he moves to hit me with his mace, but doesn't seeErskine set his jacket on fire, he writhes away in agony. The last man, (good for him) has ran away, and pugface ran off into the woods, still on fire.

"Are you okay, sir?" I ask Dexter, crouching down beside him.

"I'll live Chance, but I need Hopeless to fix me up when we get back," he panted, sweat coating his face. Pugfeatures had managed to set Dexter's leg on fire, and his trousers were black, and already I could see blistered skin bubbling through. I nearly threw up as I looked to where his knee should have been, now it was just a lumpy bit of flesh stuck to the remainder of his leg.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Asks Erskine, looking nervous.

"I- I'll be fine," He says, then groans

I quickly glance at Erskine, who glances at Dexter.

"Sir, i- in all honesty, you really, really don't look fine at all," I mumble

"You're not a h- happy person, are you, Chance?" He looks up at me, and Oh CRAP he looks so hot that I have to take a step back. I don't know what to say. I could easily say "No, sir, I'm not, because I'm 14 and the last werewolf on earth and I'm a girl and you're taking me to a strange place to see some geezer called Corrival, no sir, I'm NOT a happy person," but instead I say "How can you be happy when there's a war going on?" Oh jesus, my boy voice has cocked up big time. They probably think my voice is dropping, I wouldn't blame them. In the past half an hour I've known them, I've accidently spoke normally 9 times! I hope this works, I really do

"Is someone gonna h- help me up then?" Dexter asks

"Sorry sir!" I gasp, then slowly grab his jacket, and pull him up. He nods at me, then tries to stand but cries out and nearly falls over. I just catch him, and suddenly I'm holding him up, and, although he's a lot taller than me, he has his hands tightly around me, and I blush so much I think I'll explode.

"I've got you, sir, I've got you!" A gasp, but it's barely audible anyway because I'm so traumatised in a good way. Erskine comes to life suddenly, and drapes one of Dexters arms around his neck, and I do the same. We carry him along. I can tell he's getting weaker by the minute.

"Just stay with us, sir, you'll be fine," I whisper, and Erskine looks up at mine and says: "Corrival is gonna bloody love you, Chance!" then laughs, even Dexter laughs a bit. I laugh too.

I want to tell them, I desperately wish I could, but I don't know these two, so I don't know what they'll do, I know they like me, and I certainly like them, very much, so I wouldn't want them feeling like I'd betrey them.

As I'm starting to get tired, I see a light, and male voices coming from a pit the size of the bottom floor of a house.

"Hey, they're back!" I hear one man shout, and 6 maybe 7 men climb out of the pit, the gasp in horror at me, and also, Dexter.

"Who the hell is he, Ravel, and what the holy fuck happened to Vex?" A broad shouldered man with scars across his face asks.

"Nothing Ghastly, I'll explain later, right now, Hopeless needs to do something about Dexter, and Someone make Chance here a drink, make it strong!"

He winks at me then goes inside, carrying Dexter with him.

"

"


	3. The Pit

**Ghastly's POV**

This boy just walked into camp, with Erskine, carrying half dead Dexter. One of these days, these stray people we pick up are going to get the better of us.

"Who are you?" Shudder asks the kid, passing him some tea.

"My name's Chance Shrapnel, and I'm an archer." He replies, he has a strange accent, Northern, yet very deep. Hmmm...that would be puberty, then.

He seems, nice, he explains about what happens, and the fact that he wants to join the army to remember his family by is cute, I suppose. But he needs to know **Channie's**that war is no joke, and that if he really wants to join us, he will have to fight like a man, and not fanny about or be a coward. He will be pushed to his limits, not to even mention the fact we're here on suicide missions.

"I'm sorry, but Erskine, and Dexter, they didn't, um tell me why you're all here..." Chance says, fiddling with his bow.

"We are a group of blokes, who are basically super awesome freedom fighters, like superheoeos!" Larrikin says, jumping out from under a pile of clothes, scaring the hell out of the kid. I butt in before he passaes out.

"We are a group of fairly average mages who go on suicide missions to try and save the world from the mevolent. I'm Ghastly Bespoke, pleased to meet you." I say, and hold out my hand. He shakes it, then sits back down on some oats.

"I'm Anton Shudder," says Anton, and Chance shakes his hand.

When Skulduggery shakes his hand, we expect the kid to have a fit or collapse or something at the sight of him, but he shakes his hand like he had done with me. Obviously this Kid has seen something before more horrific thatn a skeleton in a suit.

"Are you going to see Corrival?" asks Saracen, who is busy inking a tattoo on his forearm.

"Who wants me?" asks Corrival, coming out of his tent. I look over at the kid. He looks more scared at Corrival than he did at Skulduggery!

"Sir, this is Mr. Chance Shrapnel, he would like to be a new member of The Dead Men," I say, and Chance stubles up, and holds his hand out to Corrival, saying: Yes, Sir, it would be such a pleasure to be part of your, um, gang?" with just a hint of question.

"Yes, um, well, er, how did you come about wanting to be in our so called "gang"?" Corrival asks, his eyebrows shooting up. This man is hrad to impress.

Chance takes a deep breath and tells him the story about his family and all that crap. The kid looks as if he has had a hard time, and after nearly breaking down, Corrival relents , and sits down next to the boy, and puts his chubby hand onto his shoulder.

"You can stay, boy, but you must realise that this isn't a holiday camp. Death is more than a possibility, if you stay with us, you must listen to absolutely everything I tell you, is that clear?"

Chance stands up and salutes our leader. "Yes, sir!" He yells.

"Good. Lads, this is Chance Shrapnel, the newest member of the Dead Men!" Corrival declares, holding Chance's hands up in the air. Applause sorrounds the pit, as our new member is happily welcomed into the group.

**Channie's POV**

I'm now an official member of the Dead Men! Corrival Deuce is surprisingly nice, although I can't hel thinking he looks a bit like a walrus, but he introduced me to all the lads, who seem all slightly weird (especially the skeleton with a pretty hat on, and the big bloke with all the scars who is slightly terrifiying, but he told me he's a tailor in his spare time) but they treat me well. Or they are at the moment at least.

"Sir, sir, I'm in I'm officially your general handyman and tinkerer-abouter!" I whisper-scream, hopping into the tent where Dexter is. He's lying on a few blankets and coats on the floor, topless. I nearly fall over from, well, the fact that he's topless. I can feel my face turning scarlet.

"Thats, brilliant, Chance!" He said. He does look slightly better than he did whe I last saw him. His leg is propped up, and has been put in a splint for some reason. I thought springs to mind. _ Is there actually any need for him to be topless? _

"Actually, yes, it's quite warm in here." He says, smiling.

SHIT...I just said that out loud...

"Yes, err... sorry sir, will you be okay, sir?" I mumble. I think my face will fall off via rednosity.

"I'll be fine. I just need to rest." He says, then winces. "Hopeless did a very good job. I don't know what I'd do without him,"

"He seems, errr, nice. So do the others. I like Corrival, he'll be a good leader, I bet!"

"He's the best leader we could ever hope for, just don't get on his wrong side, okay?"

"No sir, I won't."

"There's a good boy, now get to sleep, you will have to get up early tomorrow., Hopeless told me that Larrikin spotted some of Lord Vile's men about a mile from here. You can help follow them if you want,"

"Yes, sir, I think I would like that a lot. Night night sir," I say, then make my way out of th tent and back into the pit. Erskine runs up to me, a wide grin spreading on his face. "Sleep there kid, I'm going to see Dexter now, byeeee," He looks a bit drunk...

"Don't mind him, he's had too many packets of M&M'S" Says the skeleton guy, Skulduggery.

"Is he like, your brother or something?" I ask, plainly because Skulduggery shows the disintrest that an older brother would have about his younger one.

"No, he's more like the camp Yorkshire Terrier..."

I laugh, and Skulduggery gives me a funny look, because I realise in horror I have laughed in my actual voice. Bugger it buggery hell.

"Soory, sir, it's just, um, puberty, you know..."

**Dexter's POV**

"Dexter? Dexter? Are you awake?" someone shakes me, and when I open my eyes I see the grinning face of Erskine Ravel.

"I am now, and can you stop leaning on my fucking leg?"I mumble

"Sorry? What's up Dexy, aren't you in the mood?" he asks looking genuinely sad. He starts stroking my face. I put my arms around his neck.

"Should we?" He asks hisface buried underneath my shoulder. We start to kiss, getting faster, faster faster until it was unbearable, then he breaks away from me and zips up the tent.

All of my lusting and unthinkable fantasies came true, as my longest friend Erskne Ravel made passionate love to me inside the tent.


End file.
